


Oblivious

by espioc



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Secret Relationship, windblade being oblivious, windblades pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 02:25:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12878208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/espioc/pseuds/espioc
Summary: In which Windblade is oblivious to how much of a cockblock she is.





	Oblivious

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how this idea came to me, I think I thought it'd be funny, please enjoy.

Windblade checked over her report as she mosied up to Starscream’s office. She wasn’t paying much attention when she opened the door and announced herself, throwing a half hearted greeting to Starscream before looking up. She paused in her step when she found that Starscream already had a visitor. Wheeljack was standing behind the desk, leaned down a bit with one hand on the desk and the other on the back of Starscream’s chair. As soon as he saw Windblade he stood up straight. Both mechs stared at her with wider eyes than usual. 

Wheeljack broke away first, clearing his intake and taking the hands away from where they had been positioned. “So, yeah, that’s,” he cleared his intake again, gesturing vaguely to the datapad on the desk. “That’s how- that works. Hope that helps.”

Starscream stared up at Wheeljack, brow furrowed slightly. He almost jumped a bit, eyes popping open with an “Oh!” he looked down at the datapad. “Yes. Helpful.  _ Very  _ helpful. Thank you Wheeljack,” he smiled up at the gounder. Windblade could almost describe the smile as sweet, had she thought Starscream capable of such a thing.

Windblade stepped forward. “I just came to drop off my report on Metroplex,” she explained before laying it on the desk. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” 

“No,” Wheeljack answered quickly. He and Starscream exchanged a glance before looking back to Windblade. “No,” Starscream repeated. “Wheeljack was just about to leave,” Again he looked up at the grounder. “Right, Wheeljack?” 

Wheeljack’s finials flashed for a split second before he managed to stutter out. “Right. Just going- I’ll,” he went to lay a hand somewhere but quickly pulled it away. “See you next week,” he spit out quickly, stalking around the desk and to the door. Windblade watched as he left, turning slightly so she could see him get through the door. When she looked back at Starscream she found his head resting on an upturned palm. His eyes were oddly glazed over, suggesting that his mind was somewhere else as he stared on from where Wheeljack had left. A tiny smile quirked the corner of his lips, and Windblade could safely say it was one of the strangest things she’d ever seen him do. 

“Starscream,” she called, snapping him out of his daydream. Starscream quickly lifted his head and stared at the city speaker like a deer in the headlights. A second later his face came to rest in it’s usual sneer. “Yes, what is it?” he asked, sounding less than pleased. 

“My report,” Windblade clarified. “Do you want me to go over it with you?” 

Starscream left his optics half lidded as he began to gather the datapads about his desk. “No, I think I can handle it,” he threw her a bit of a condescending smile. “Thank you Windblade,” he droned, placing his intertwined fingers atop the pile of datapads as he sat forward. “You can go now.” 

Windblade was more than happy to go, but tried not to make that too obvious as she turned on a heel and rushed to the door. She shoved the doors open and let them fall behind her. She heard them close, or at least she thought she did. A few seconds after her exit she heard them close again. When she turned around, however, to see if it was Starscream emerging from his office, she found nothing. Her brow furrowed in slight confusion before easing with a shrug. Windblade continued on her way, paying no mind to the strange occurrence. 

 

* * *

 

It was a few days later when Windblade decided she needed to take a trip to Macadam's. It had been a while since her and everyone had just sat down and had a drink. Wheeljack’s comm was off, which probably meant he was in the midst of blowing himself up. Windblade wasn’t opposed to interrupting him briefly to ask if he’d be willing to grab a drink with her and Ironhide. 

When she arrived she was surprised to find Wheeljack wasn’t busy with a project. Instead he was talking to Starscream, who was seated atop Wheeljack’s work bench. As soon as she walked in he hopped off. 

“Wheeljack,” Winblade greeted warily, keeping a confused eye on Starscream. They both looked at her. Wheeljack had stood from where he’d been sitting on his stool, and Starscream glared at her with narrowed optics. Windblade, with her brow still furrowed, glanced between them. “I was wondering,” she started slowly. “If you’d be willing to join me and Ironhide at Macadam’s later tonight.”

Starscream scoffed, crossing his arms and averting his gaze from his fellow flyer. Windblade turned all of her attention to Wheeljack. “After work?” she concluded, expression lightening a bit as she did her best to ignore the irate Starscream. 

“Uhh,” Wheeljack keened, glancing to Starscream. “Yes,” he eventually spit out. At that answer Starscream whipped around to look at the grounder, eyes blazing. Wheeljack ignored him. “I can do that. I will meet you after work.” 

Starscream’s wings rattled, and Windblade couldn’t help but notice the way his frame tightened at every word. For the moment she ignored that and smiled at Wheeljack. “Sounds great, see you there,” she said before turning to leave. Halfway down the hall she was passed by the still fuming Starscream who was muttering to himself about some ingrateful, flakey- something. Windblade didn’t quite catch what. Instead of taking the elevator he flung the door open for the stairs and took off. 

Windblade rolled her eyes. Starscream was always angry about something, and he did a very good job of letting everyone know that. 

 

* * *

 

Windblade felt a weight lifted off her wings as she sat at Macadam’s. It had been a while since she could just sit and enjoy a drink with her friends. Ironhide told tales of dumb criminals while Wheeljack spoke of his latest project, a few of which had already blown up in his face twice that day. 

“It’s a simple miscalculation,” he explained after Ironhide kept prodding him. “That’s how this stuff works. One tiny thing is off, and boom! There it goes.”

Ironhide chuckled a deep laugh. “And here I thought you were a grade A genius. It’s a wonder how anything ever came outta that lab-a yers.”

“I have my moments,” Wheeljack shrugged. “Pretty lucky moments for you, red, without my inventions your chassis would’a been scrap a long time ago.”  

Ironhide chuckled again. “I guess we can all be thankful for that,” he took a swig of his drink. He let out a vent as he wiped his mouth. “Did either’a you see Screamer today? He was practically livid. Anyone know what for?”

Windblade shrugged. “Does anyone ever know what for?” she scoffed, twirling the drink in her cup before taking a sip. Ironhide looked to Wheeljack who had averted his gaze to the drink in his cup. Restless fingers flexed and eased against the glass. 

“What about you?” Ironhide asked. “Know anything?”

Wheeljack tapped his finger against the glass before shrugging. “Wouldn’t know,” he answered simply before taking a long swig which emptied his cube. “I’m gonna go grab another from the bar.” 

Once he was gone Ironhide turned his attention back to Windblade. “He been actin’ weird to you lately?” he asked, glancing to where Wheeljack stood at the bar. 

Windblade shrugged a shoulder, barely paying any mind to the question. “Not weirder than usual,” he grumbled, keeping her cube at her lips. She lowered it back to the table and looked at Ironhide, suddenly finding herself more curious. “Why? Do you think he has?”

Ironhide drew his lips in in thought, brow furrowing slightly before he answered. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “Somethin’ just seems a little off.” 

“Well,” Windblade shrugged a shoulder, putting the cube back at her lips. “He’s Wheeljack. Something’s always going to be a little ‘off’” she smirked before taking a sip. A moment later Ironhide shrugged. “Guess ya could be right,” he said, turning forward in his seat. “Wheeljack is a character, I’ll give ‘em that.”

Wheeljack returned to the table a second later. “Give who what?” he asked as he sat down.

Windblade and Ironhide exchanged a glance before looking back to Wheeljack. Windblade answered. “Starscream the benefit of the doubt.” 

 

* * *

 

The next day Windblade went off in the morning to have her usual conversation with Metroplex. He seemed to be doing better, certainly still recovering from all of his bouts. Space bridge looked good. Everything was in order. Or so it seemed from the outside. Metroplex kept mentioning something to her about a pain. It was small but itching, and he couldn’t seem to scratch it himself. Something in the sewer system it seemed, and too many people pulling and replacing resources on his frame. Windblade pursed her lip, trying to think of solutions. In the end the best she could do was go to Starscream with the matter, considering he had the final say in things, and the power to tell others what to do to an extent. If something needed fixing Windblade herself could not order it to be fixed. 

The issue was that Starscream may not see the problems as pressing as they probably were. Which meant Windblade had to do the runaround game where she made it look like it was all his idea and they could get something done.

Not really looking forward to it Windblade wandered up to the Spire where she made her way to Starscream’s office. Without announcing herself she burst into the office, ready to make her case. Before she could speak however, she noticed the distinct lack of Starscream. “Starscream?” she questioned, moving slowly towards the desk. Only a few steps in Starscream popped up from underneath the desk. “Windblade,” he greeted, hauling himself up from where he was laying. “What brings you here?” he inquired, not wearing the usual scowl he always wore, but something more flustered. 

“I have some things I need to discuss with you,” Windblade informed. “It’s about Metroplex.”

Starscream’s gaze glanced to the floor before he sat down. “Then by all means,” he slowly eased into his seat. “Proceed,” he offered, gesturing the chair across from him. Windblade took a seat. She eyed the ruler of Cybertron warily. He almost looked flushed, and she couldn’t help but noticed how his vents were heavy and long as if he’d just run across the planet. Had he a smaller amount of control over his systems Windblade assumed he would be panting. The tension that usually hugged his frame was practically gone, and his wings hung in a content eased position. If Windblade didn’t know any better she’d even go as far to say he was smiling a little. 

“Right,” she started, looking to her report. “Metroplex reports a few obstructions in the sewer system. I would go as far to propose better filter systems be implemented to prevent hard material from making it through. There are also a lot of people taking material from one place on his frame and-”

A loud squeak interrupted her. Windblade looked up to find Starscream’s hand clamped over his mouth, which also helped to conceal the purple rising in his face. His optics were popped open wide and his wings were hiked to the ceiling. “My apologies,” he spit out quickly, forcing the hand at his mouth to join the one on the desk. “Please,” he flinshed. “Continue.” 

That was...odd. To say the least. Nonetheless Windblade managed to pull her gaze away from the strange behaving seeker and continue with her report. “Right,” she said slowly. She took in a quick vent before continuing. “Anyways, to make a long report short, I think it would be wise to start more constructive housing projects and address these issues with the people. Metroplex is plenty capable of providing what they need, but they’re trying to take resources from him and use them somewhere outside, which isn’t helping anyone.” 

She looked back to Starscream, hoping for a response. Instead she found him squeezing his eyes shut. His fists clenched atop The table. “Of course,” he agreed through gritted denta. “I agree. I will write up a speech tomorrow and-” he paused, biting his lip and letting out a small keen. “I will talk to-” his eyes suddenly popped open. “Wheeljack,” he squeaked, then quickly clamping a hand over his mouth. “Tomorrow,” he bit out through his fingers. Once it was safe he removed his hand and clenched it beside the other atop the table. “I'm sure he’ll be able to get a design out by next week,” he smirked. The purple blush continued to rise him his cheeks as he bit down on his lip again. 

Windblade lifted a brow at him. 

“For now do what you can,” Starscream rattled off quickly. He adjusted himself in his seat but froze suddenly before he was completely settled. Carefully he let his frame ease. “Is there anything else you needed?” He asked, gradually settling back into his chair. Behind him his wings twitched. Windblade noticed the behavior but chose not to comment. She was tempted to ask if he was okay, but that was a road she did not have time to travel down. 

“No that's- it,” she settled, still trying to figure out exactly what was going on. “Uh- okay,” she glanced around her space for a moment before standing up. Her work there was done, surprisingly, and it took almost no effort. That was even more surprising. She nodded her head to him, gripping her datapad with both hands. “Thank you.” Windblade turned on a heel and left, practically booking it to the door. 

That was too weird. Windblade wanted to wonder what in the world could have been going on, but she decided some things were better left undiscovered. 

 

* * *

 

Windblade managed to purge the instance within a few days and went back to her daily life without worry. Curious as to whether or not Starscream had spoken to Wheeljack she comm’d him. 

“Wheeljack here,” he greeted bluntly. 

“Wheeljack. Has Starscream come to talk to you about the issues with Metroplex?”

“Oh yeah, he’s come to talk to me. I got a few solutions on the table. Don’t worry.”

Windblade was about to speak but she heard someone mumble something from the other end. “What was that? She asked, assuming it was Wheeljack. 

“Nothin’ I didn’t say anything-” he muttered something to someone else. Windblade could only catch part, something about bothering. 

“Are you busy?” Windblade inquired, sneering her lip upward and squishing one eye partly closed. “It sounds like there’s someone there.”

“No no, just- there are just people around.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m outside.”

Windblade could have sworn she heard someone scoff. “Was that you?” she asked, growing even more confused with every second. 

“Yep, just watched someone do something stupid.”

“You’re something stupid,” someone snapped in the background. 

Windblade was about to comment when Wheeljack spoke again. “Sorry, I’ll fill ya in on the project later, right now gotta go bye.” he rattled off before cutting the line. 

Windblade didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye. “Ah- oh-kay,” she shook her head a little. “Maybe Ironhide was on to something.” She shook the thought away and got back to what she was doing. A desk full of office work lay ahead of her. She was hoping to go out after work, but it seemed as though all of her friends were busy. 

The last couple months Wheeljack, specifically, had been unusually busy. A few late nights in the lab was normal, as were a few days in the med-bay, depending on what he was working on. He had been fairly consistently busy. In the middle of the cycle he couldn’t go out at all. At the beginning he couldn’t stay out for long, and at the end he couldn’t spend any time in the mornings. The two days between he left for late nights. Windblade was almost beginning to miss him, if she were being completely honest. 

Windblade sighed, looking over another document. She supposed he was just busy. Starscream had probably been flooding him with projects, and, being the head scientist, he was obligated to get them done as soon as possible. Considering all of the problems that still needed to be solved it was a wonder he could get out as all. 

Windblade sat up a little straighter. What did Wheeljack do on his days off? He certainly wasn’t spending that time with his friends. At least not any friends that she knew of. Again she sighed, sitting forward again. Maybe he just slept on his days off. 

 

* * *

 

Windblade wandered about the halls of the spire. She had gone to visit Ironhide before preparing for the delegate meeting later that day. She had a report to deliver to Starscream’s office before heading to the meeting room. If possible she’d like to discuss a few things with him on the way. Wheeljack had made some progress with the filter systems, but Starscream had yet to address the people on distributing resources. 

As she usually did she came in and announced herself, gaze still on the datapad a she shoved the doors open. She hoped her presence would encourage the ruler of Cybertron to be on time for the meeting for once. 

As she entered the distinct sound of metal panging against metal snatched her attention. She looked up to find Wheeljack sitting in Starscream’s chair, Starscream nowhere to be found. Windblade found herself at a loss for a moment, the gears turning in her head. None of them could come up with a reason for Wheeljack to be in Starscream’s office without Starscream. 

“Wheeljack?” she questioned. “What-” she looked around again, triple checking to make sure Starscream wasn’t there somewhere. “What- What are you doing? Where’s Starscream?”

Wheeljack had his lips drawn in. His hands were twined tightly together atop the desk and his eyes were bright and wide. A hint of purple rested in his face. “Just uh- ya know,” he explained vaguely. “Hangin’. What’er  _ you  _ doing here?” 

“I can to drop off a report. And walk with Starscream to the delegate meeting. Where is he?”

“Uhh,” Wheeljack scratched a finial. “I don’t know,” he landed on, flicking his hand away from his head. “I came looking and he wasn’t here.”

Windblade lifted a confused brow at her friend, scrunching the other eye. “What are you still doing here?” 

Wheeljack shrugged, keeping his shoulders to his ears as he spoke. “Haven’t been here for long,” he explained. He let his shoulders drop. “Just got a little curious what it feels like to sit as the Ruler of Cybertron.” 

Windblade almost smirked. “Feel good?” she joked. 

Wheeljack shifted himself a little. “Comfy,” he confirmed. 

Windblade puffed a little laugh. “Well, don’t stay too long. I think the last thing you need of for Starscream to come back and find you in his chair.”

Wheeljack glanced to the floor. “I have a feeling he wouldn’t mind,” he muttered right before Windblade turned away. She considered that Starscream had already taken off for the meeting. That was unlikely, it was more likely he was off doing something sinister and making ill informed deals, but Windblade chose to give him the benefit of the doubt in this instance. She left Wheeljack to sit in Starscream’s chair. 

Maybe that’s what he did on his days off. 

 

* * *

 

Windblade didn’t see Wheeljack until a few days later. They were in his lab looking over the designs for the new filter system. When she’d arrived Starscream was there again, but he huffed out as soon as she’d gotten there, hardly even paying her a greeting besides the usual silent nod of acknowledgment. The scowl was still there, though. 

As she and Wheeljack talked Windblade suddenly became curious. “Wheeljack,” she said, interrupting his rant. The scientists finial’s flashed when he looked at her. “Yeah?”

“What do you do when you’re not here?”

Wheeljack lowered his datapad. “What do I do?” he repeated. “Uh,” he positioned a thumb under his chin and tapped it with a finger. “Not much,” he eventually spit out, flicking the hand away from his face. “Sleep, mostly. Do math,” he shrugged. “I dunno, I don’t really get ‘days off’ as you’d think of ‘em,” he looked at her. “What do you do?” 

“I don’t really do much either,” Windblade admitted. “Sometimes I visit home,” she picked up a little piece of scrap that was sitting on the work bench and began fiddling with it. “Still...same as always,” she wanted to give specific adjectives but chose against it. She smiled down at the grounder. “You should visit sometime, I’ll show you around,”

“Sure,” Wheeljack held out, scribbling something in his notes. “I’d love to,” he glanced at her. “If we can find the time that is.” 

Windblade set down the piece of scrap. “Maybe when things calm down. Have you ever been to Caminus?”

“Nope. Opened plenty of space bridged to and from, though.” 

“Right, you manned the space bridge didn’t you?”

“Still do, to an extent.” 

Windblade let herself smile a little. “It’s funny how you can be so close to something and never experience it. You’re the one who opens it and never gets to take the trip.” 

“Yeah, funny how things work out, ain’t it?”

“Yeah,” Windblade muttered back. “Funny.”

It was a couple hours more before Windblade left Wheeljack to his business and headed home. It was getting late, and the lights of the city were just beginning to flick on as she stepped out of the spire. The city was oddly beautiful at night, despite it’s rough patches. 

When she reached home she went to recharge, skipping her cube of energon in exchange for the berth. 

An hour into the night Windblade remained awake. On her mind were a thousand things. Bored, and tired of trying to fall asleep, she wondered if anyone else was up and started calling around. Ironhide didn’t answer. Burr didn’t answer, which wasn’t a surprise. Wheeljack didn’t answer. In her near desperation she called Starscream who, to her surprise, did answer. 

“Hello?” he droned, sounding almost bored. 

“Wheeljack tells me you’ve been working with him on the new filter system.”

“Good, so you don’t have to be calling me then.”

“Have you written your speech yet?”

“Primus, Windblade, do you have to do this now? I’m a bit...busy.”

“If you didn’t want to talk why did you answer?”

“I’m the Ruler of Cybertron. You’re a delegate. I’m sure you can put the pieces together.” 

Windblade sighed. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow then, Starscream.”

“Yes, city speaker, I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Windblade cut the line. She found herself curious as to what Starscream could possibly be busy with. Considering how late it was it couldn’t possibly be something good. 

That was a matter for another day however. Those ten seconds talking to Starscream had tuckered Windblade out. She rolled over onto her side, and was asleep in an instant. 

 

* * *

 

Windblade was surprised to see Starscream strut into the delegate meeting with a smile on his face. It wasn’t even a smirk, it was a real, genuine smile. It was soft and stayed on for a majority of the time the meeting went on. To say it was odd would be an understatement. It almost looked out of place on the usually hard faced seeker. 

Windblade almost felt good for him. Apparently he’d found something to smile about, and it didn’t feel as though it was something harmful. She was tempted to ask after the meeting, and remained tempted until she built up the courage to do it. Asking Starscream a question was always a shot in the dark.   


She caught up with him as they were filing out. To be frank she wasn’t sure how to start a conversation like this. Asking why he was happy would probably earn her a scowl and an answer around the lines of “What? Am I not allowed to be happy?” because taking things to offense was one of Starscream’s specialties. 

Windblade chose to tread carefully, and start the conversation with another topic. The perfect thing rested in her hand. “The report for metroplex,” she said, handing it over as she walked beside him. To her surprise Starscream took it with a “Thank you,” his cheery expression not wavering at her presence. 

Instead of making a comment about the smile Windblade went the more scenic route. “Are you alright?” she asked. 

Starscream almost sighed in contentment. “If you must know,” he almost spat, the smile still tugging at his features. “I’m fantastic. I had-” he paused to think on his words. “A great night’s sleep,” he grinned. “Among other things,” was muttered at the end. 

Windblade had to think over the statement for a moment, but managed to catch on almost immediately. “Oh, you- Am I interpreting this right?” she asked, not wanting to risk it.

“I don’t know,” Starscream smirked, finally looking at her. “How inappropriate is your interpretation?” 

“Interface inappropriate.”

Starscream hummed, palming the door to his office open. “Well then you’d be correct,” he almost purred, eyes glazing over in what Windblade could only assume was with thoughts of last night. It was...strange. To know that was a thing that happened. And Windblade couldn’t help but wonder who in their right mind would risk getting in a berth with Starscream. 

Regardless, as much as it made her squirm Windblade had to admit she preferred a freshly laid Starscream to the Starscream she was usually greeted with. 

“Well, good for you,” she said, though not very loud, stopping in the center of the room while Starscream continued to his desk. Windblade’s fingers fiddled against her datapad. “Who was it with?” she asked, curious but at the same time really not wanting an answer. 

Starscream reclined in his chair, smile becoming much more sinister as he balanced his head on a thumb and a finger. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Is that why you were “busy” last night?”

Starscream leaned forward. “You called me at the exact wrong time.”

Windblade almost cringed. “You weren’t already doing it were you?”

Starscream flicked a hand at her. “No, no. We were just getting there. My partner wasn’t too happy that I deigned to answer,” he stood from his seat and walked back over to her. “Though it really isn’t the first time you’ve interrupted us,” he said, walking her to the door. 

The door slammed behind her before Windblade got the chance to process that information. She stood there frozen for a second before it finally hit her. “Wait, what!?” she cried, twisting back around to face the closed door. Her wings rattled behind her as a realization suddenly dawned on her. 

Everything started to make a little more sense. 

 

* * *

 

For the next week Windblade subtly dogged on them. Both of them. It seemed to irritate Wheeljack and it just amused Starscream. Windblade treaded carefully, avoiding topics and dancing around subjects with misleading questions. 

Neither would admit it, though, and by the end of the week Windblade was beginning to doubt herself. Maybe she’d just been misinterpreting things. Maybe Starscream was just being his infuriating self with that comment. 

She was about ready to give up, when…

Starscream walked to the door of the delegate chamber. Beside him was Wheeljack. They were conversing, discussing something Windblade didn’t know what. At that point she didn’t care, right on the verge of giving up her accusation anyways. That was until Starscream, upon saying goodbye to his “friend” leaned down and gave Wheeljack a peck on the lips. 

Right there. In front of everybody. 

As soon as he did it he must’ve realized what he’s done. He let his shoulders slump and arms fall to his side. “Ah, frag,” he swore. 

Windblade slammed a hand on the table, flinging to her feet. “I knew it!” she cried, pointing a knowing finger at the couple. The smile on her face was wide and ripe with satisfaction. 

Despite that she still couldn’t help but feel a little oblivious for not having noticed earlier.


End file.
